A Friend in Slytherin is a Friend For Life
by corvusdraconis
Summary: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round Five: Lucius 5th Year


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round Five**

 **Game ends:** Sunday, May 31, 2015 at 12:00:00 Noon (Nottingham time)

 **Position:** Beater 1

 **Assignment:** Lucius, 5th Year

 **Optional Prompts:**

5) (quote) 'Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.' - Douglas Adams

6) (word) plethora

13) (word) ridiculous

 **Beta:** fluffpanda

 **Crazy grammar Nazi, Ravenclaw:** Moka-girl

* * *

 **A Friend in Slytherin is a Friend For Life**

Lucius leaned against the stone column as he watched the First year students tangle their limbs in their scurry about in an effort to remember where all their classes were. Time and time again, even before he had been appointed as a Prefect, he had paid attention to such things. He had noticed how the youngest students fell into place like a muster of peafowl. His father always had a love for the birds, and he'd allowed them free reign in the Manor gardens. Every year another group of fuzzy chicks would follow the peahen around, attempting to imitate her habits and avoid being stepped on. The ruling peacock that presided over the garden would tolerate the antics of his progeny with a strange patience, even allowing the chicks to climb aboard his back and use him as a lookout post.

Lucius sniffed quietly to himself. He imagined he was, at least at this point in time, the reigning peacock of the Slytherin "garden" as it were. The First-years scurried underfoot like so many peachicks, sticking their beaks into everything, puffing up their feathers to seem more confident than they were, and then immediately diving under the protective wings of the older students the moment something breathed in their direction with anything resembling hostility.

His father's fondness for birds had rubbed off on him, and he admitted that there was a great beauty in the various bird species as a whole, both in their mastery of land and air, cunning stalking food, and keen aptitude for survival. Such traits were the trademark of Slytherin House, so it made sense that his father would cherish such things. Most people underestimated birds, thinking them nothing but "bird brains," but people like Lucius knew better. There was more than beauty to birds, just as there was more than appearances to a Slytherin. All one had to do was watch his owl glide silently in the gloom of dusk and descend upon a rabbit with almost perfect precision to know that birds were capable of being deadly to whatever prey they decided to pursue. Birds, like any other predator, had their share of misses to success, but the survivors never gave up. If Lucius was anything at all like the birds he admired, he was definitely a survivor.

At least he was now a survivor with more prestige. His Prefect designation would follow him well from his fifth year and beyond. If he played his cards right, there was a very good chance that he would be made Head Boy in his seventh year, and the very thought of that pleased him greatly. Even now, in his fifth year, many responsibilities were settling upon his young shoulders, but a Malfoy was anything but prepared to take on duty whether it be to family or to House. Professor Slughorn already had his eyes on Lucius, having inducted him into his Slug Club. "Slug Club" was such a ridiculous name for a club, but Lucius realised that the name wasn't as important as the contacts and power it fostered. Professor Horace Slughorn was a Slytherin, and that made him not to be underestimated.

Lucius' eyes focused on the black-haired boy that had joined the ranks of Slytherin for the current year. The boy was lanky and had somewhat ill-fitting clothes under his school robes. His hair framed his face with greasy locks that seemed to defy any appearance but neglect. The boy's black eyes were almost sunken into his face and carried a sort of wistful longing to belong that should not adorn the face of any Slytherin. Slytherins belonged to each other. There was no exception to this rule. If the Sorting Hat named you Slytherin, you were worthy of belonging. It was only the small matter of figuring out how.

A familiar duo made their way past him as they walked down the hallway together, and Lucius reached out from the dark of the column he was leaning on and pulled them back to him with a swift and mercilessly yank.

"Leave the pranks against Macdonald for now," Lucius drawled, lifting his chin just so. It was the trademark Malfoy look. He blamed his father and his mother for how naturally it came to him in practice.

The two Slytherin looked disappointed that their "fun" with the Gryffindor was interrupted, but they knew better than to disobey Lucius when it came to his "recommendations." Even when Lucius was in his Second Year, his air of command was legendary. Many called him the Prince of Slytherin for that and so many other reasons.

"What did you need, Lucius?" Avery said, swatting Mulciber upside the head when he made some side comment to a passing Hufflepuff First Year that sent the poor wizard crying down the hall. "That was a pureblood, idiot. Hufflepuff or not, we have no quarrel with his family. You will do restitution for that, and you will do it subtly as to not bring dishonour to our house."

Mulciber slumped but nodded. He took in a breath and focused on Lucius.

Lucius eyed his fellow Slytherin with a slightly curved lip, one eyebrow arching into his hairline. "What do you know of that one?" he asked, jutting his chin towards the black-haired boy in the courtyard.

"Snape?" Avery asked. "He's a quiet one. Keeps to himself."

"He knows his curses," Mulciber said, "better than most seven years his senior."

Lucius furrowed his brows. Mulciber was not one to praise easily. If he was, Snape must have great talent, indeed. That sort of talent would be greatly appreciated in their House. It would also be a great asset amongst allies.

Lucius straightened his posture. "Befriend him," he said matter-of-factly. "Ensure that he is not alone."

Avery snorted. "He seems to think that Mudblood he grew up with is more interesting and any of us."

Lucius' hand was at Avery's throat, his fingers clenched around the boy's collar and almost lifted him from the ground. "He is a _Slytherin_ ," he hissed into his face. "He is worthy of your effort. Make. Yourself. More. Interesting."

Avery paled and nodded emphatically. "Yes, Lucius. Of course. I apologise."

"If he's interested in curses and hexes, I know of a few that he'll like that he's probably not learned from a book," Mulciber said with interest. His eyes glittered with the passion of his love of Dark magic.

"Do whatever you wish," Lucius replied, "but ensure you are a friend befitting our House. He is one of us, no matter what—or who—his childhood friends may be."

Mulciber nodded and jerked his head to Avery. "Come on, mate. "It's about time we had a new pet project."

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he watched the pranking duo focus their attention to the new matter at hand. If all went well, they would groom the young Slytherin into a proper friendship amongst the House and that haunted wistful look that screamed weakness would be chased from his eyes.

Like a young, gangly, and awkward young peacock, they would teach the young boy to fly. 'Flying,' as his father was prone to saying, was 'learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.' In the meantime, Lucius would offer himself up as a proper ally of status both in blood and as prefect. Treated properly, the young wizard would become something great, and Slytherin House was not known for being a House of Failures. They were a House of Greatness.

"First things first," he muttered to himself. First, he was going to owl his mother for a plethora of masculine personal hygiene products and a few sets of new robes for the boy. No Slytherin, no matter what their past, was to be seen as being neglected amongst their own. Lucius would insure the boy was taken properly under wing, groomed into the greatness of their shared House, and educated on what really mattered.

What really mattered would not be a Muggle-born girl who wasn't great enough to be one of the few sorted into Slytherin House. That would have made her exceptional. That would have made her worthy of being defended and being known amongst their number. No, Lucius decided, Severus Snape would become a great Slytherin. He, Lucius Malfoy, would see to it, personally.


End file.
